Below is a paper I wrote for a college lit class. It was a fun research
project. Enjoy – Bill

Dragons appear in our oldest mythology and folklore. Dragons have been a
source of terror and mystery, throughout history. They populate early
mythology, medieval literature, the Renaissance, and modern fiction. The
dragons of today share many characteristics of the dragons from our
earliest folklore and myths. No longer the feared hero’s antagonist, or
the confidants of emperors, today dragons live on in our fiction.

Origins

Most cultures have a reference to dragons. “The dragon figures in the
history and mythology of almost every race in the world, and has been
endowed with both beneficent and malevolent attributes” (1, p. 176).
Standing just on the edge of reality, like superstition, dragons fill
the early stories with mystery and fantasy, the early recollections
border on worship and belief. “Prior to the sixteenth century, thousands
of eyewitness accounts of dragon sightings were recorded” (2, p. 3). But
where do these creatures come from? Human history, culture, stories and
folklore predate the written word by many thousands of years. Early
writings record stories that may have been generations or centuries old.
For example, writers of the Chou dynasty wrote about the Hsia dynasty,
an early Chinese culture, yet there is no historical evidence of the
Hsia’s existence, and nothing is “known of its political structure” (3,
p. 60). Likewise, there isn’t any evidence that dragons exist; however,
there are several theories about the source of the dragon myth.

One theory about the origins of dragons is that dragons are an amalgam,
or mashing up of several threats or fears of early man. In the
introduction to his book, An Instinct for Dragons, David Jones refers to
a study where the auditory alarms to various predators are studied among
a select group of African monkeys. The monkeys have three very distinct
predators, and distinct auditory calls for each, the leopard, the
martial eagle, and the python. These three predators together make up
the common components of a dragon, the claws, the scales, the fangs, the
lizard like body, and wings. Jones’s speculation is that early man faced
similar threats, and over the millennia before the written word, these
threats became mixed in stories. Supporting the amalgam theory, Chinese
scholars hypothesize the dragon is a “joint image of different animals…a
combination of totems that originally belonged to several main tribes
that integrated with each other in ancient China” (4, p. 102). Another
theory is that the dragon is an iconic prototype for a “crocodile,
tornado, or lightning, or even the river” (4, p. 102), or some other
presence in the early world.

Most cultures have some reference to dragons, of course, the names for
these creatures are different, and in some cases the dragons’
characteristics are different, but not so different as to be
unrecognizable. “The Chinese call it lung [long]; the Hawaiians,
kelekona or perhaps mo’o. It is zmaj to Croatians and Serbians,
lohikaarme to the Finns, and unktena to the Cherokee Indians of North
America” (2, p. 1). The English word for dragon comes from early Greek
Drakon meaning ‘serpent’.

Dragons basically fall into two large categories, the western dragons of
Europe, and the eastern dragons of Asia. Dragons come in a variety of
shapes, sizes and colors. The eastern dragons are able to change shape
and size instantly, while the western dragons are born small, but
rapidly grow to huge sizes. Dragons can have any variety of claws,
heads, scales, feathers, bat like wings, no wings, multiple heads,
fangs, barbed tails; the list of variations is virtually endless.
Dragons can fly with and without wings, and breath fire; they can poison
enemies and even spit acid. The western dragons are frequently
identified as living or hiding in caves, abandoned fortresses or under
the sea, hoarding treasure. The eastern dragons live in lakes, ponds,
rivers, and high on the mountains causing mist and fog to roll down into
the valleys.

The early western dragons are generally seen as evil, or the embodiment
of evil. “Since medieval theology made the dragon the symbol of the
Devil, it followed that many saints were, in Christian legend, the
slayers of dragons” (1, p. 179). The early eastern dragons have both
beneficial and malevolent characteristics, there are exceptions however,
and while dragons, as Clair points out are thought of as evil in western
literature, they are usually simply responding to provocation, like a
threatened animal.

The Greek Myths

In early Greek literature, many creatures wear the name Dragon. One of
the earliest recorded is Typhon. Born from the Earth, Typhon forced the
Greek gods to flee to Egypt. Zeus fought Typhon unsuccessfully twice
before finally besting him on the third attempt. Typhon was large,
ferocious, associated with fire, and said to hurl mountains,

“A flaming monster with a hundred heads,
Who rose up against all the gods.
Death whistled from his fearful jaws,
His eyes flashed glaring fire” (5, p. 69)

Zeus finally gets control of lightening and thunder and is able to
defeat Typhon. The dragon is wounded and finally crushed under Mount
Aetna in Sicily. A single drop of the dragon’s blood impregnates Gaea,
the earth goddess. Dragons are often sires to heroes and rulers in both
Western and Eastern literature. Typhon’s offspring includes the Kings of
Athens as well as Ladon and Echidna. Ladon is a hydra that protects the
golden apples of the garden of Hesperides, and is killed in one of
Hercules trials. Echidna is a chimera, “a fire-breathing creature with a
body that was, from front to back, that of a lion, a goat, and a dragon”
(2, p. 137). The chimera is the model used for Saint George’s dragon in
medieval art and literature.

Early Chinese Folklore and Myth

Dragons play a significant role in Chinese culture, literature, and
ancient mythology. The dragon is “One of the most important mythical
creatures in Chinese mythology” (4, p. 100). The eastern dragons have
control over water; they are responsible for storms and floods, and are
still offered prayers when rain is needed. The dragon is the symbol of
the Chinese Emperor, and written records of Chinese dragons go back over
6,000 years. Archeologists have discovered dragon sculptures 6,400 years
old (4, p. 100).

Birrell discusses the early writings of the Hsia dynasty, and the role
of dragons in that early society. “A few dragons in mythology themselves
have distinctive names, such as Chu Lung or Torch Dragon and Ying Lung
or Responding Dragon” (3, p. 60). These dragons possessed power over
light, dark and water. The early Hsia culture had professions such as
dragon tamer and “Master Who Rears Dragons” (3, p. 60). Dragons in early
Chinese mythology often conspired with humans. As mentioned, they
possessed power over water and could cause storms or droughts, “One of
the most important mythical creatures in Chinese mythology, the dragon
is the controller of the rain…great helper of heroes; and bearer of gods
or demigods” (4, p. 100).

Dragons in Medieval Literature (1100 – 1450)

In the medieval poem, Beowulf, the adventurer and king Beowulf defeats
many foes, and when his kingdom is threatened by a dragon, despite his
age, he takes up arms and fights the dragon, killing it. Beowulf is
poisoned by the dragon, and dies from his wounds. In the wonderful
translation by Seamus Heaney, we learn that the dragon awakes and
attacks because an intruder steals a treasured cup,

“He [Beowulf] ruled it well
for fifty winters, grew old and wise
as warden of the land
until one began
to dominate the dark, a dragon on the prowl
from the steep vaults of a stone-roofed barrow
where he guarded a hoard; there was a hidden passage,
unknown to men, but someone managed
to enter by it and interfere
with the heathen trove” (6, p. 151)

When the intruder stumbles on the treasure, and steals a cup, the dragon
is outraged.

“The dragon began to belch out flames
and burn bright homesteads; there was a hot glow
that scared everyone, for the vile sky-winger
would leave nothing alive in his wake” (6, p. 157)

When the dragon and warrior meet face to face, each recognizes the
mortal threat of the other,

“Roused to a fury,
each antagonist struck terror in the other” (6, p. 173)

Beowulf’s dragon is the archetype western dragon, very old, living
underground and guarding a treasure lost and forgotten by man. The
dragon flies and spreads terror through the land looking for vengeance.
It is well armored and fights with intelligence and zeal, yet it is
almost completely animalistic.

In another medieval story, the 14th century French tale, Voeux du Paon,
a woman turns into a dragon. Melusine is the wife of the count of Anjou;
they have four children together. One day, the count confronts his wife
about her peculiar habit of leaving the church service halfway through,
just before the chalice is raised before the congregation. He tests her,
by placing knights at the exits to the church, and when she is unable to
leave, “In a rage, she sent forth a shattering roar, metamorphosed into
a dragon, and grabbing two of her children, flew from the church” (2, p.
145).

Dragons in the Renaissance

During the Renaissance, Edmund Spenser’s epic poem, “The Faerie Queene”
tells how St. George, also known as the Red Cross, fought a great
dragon. The scene is told as a Christ allegory. The fight lasts for
days, but in the end, St. George is victorious. The dragon, with great
strength and ferocity, breathing fire and steam was made from the
essence of death,

“For nigh thereto the ever-damned beast
Durst not approach, for he was deadly made,
And all that life preserved did detest;
Yet he it oft adventured to invade” (7, p. 217)

The dragon is described as enormous, shadowing mountains and valleys,
and armored with scales,

“And over, all with brazen scales was armed
Like plated coat of steel, so couched near
That nought mote pierce” (7, p. 207)

The dragon makes a mistake, and tries to snatch the knight and horse,
and fly off, but the dragon misjudged the weight and the knight uses the
chance to spear the dragon under a wing with his lance,

Ultimately, St. George is the victor. The story even comes with a
princess, a damsel in distress, and a fountain or stream that restores
life.

Dragons in modern literature

Perhaps the most famous modern-day dragon is Tolkien’s Smaug. Like older
stories, the dragon is hoarding a treasure of riches deep inside a
mountain. Smaug is still fierce and terrifying, but he takes on more
human characteristics. The dragon is enraged when Bilbo Baggins steals
an item from the hoard. The item he picks, is a large two-handled cup,
like the thief in Beowulf. Tolkien’s possible basis for this story, and
ultimately the Lord of the Rings stories is the Old Norse “Volsunga
Saga, where the dwarf Andvari has a golden treasure and a magic ring
that are seized by Fafnir, a man transformed into a dragon by the curse
of greed” (9, p. 16). But Tolkien was clearly a fan of Beowulf, and it
is possible the encounter with Smaug is a recreation of the great final
battle. In The History of the Hobbit, Rattliff says that Tolkien had
originally planned for Bilbo to be the dragon-slayer (Rattliff:2007, p.
374). But, Tolkien himself points out, “The placing of the dragon is
inevitable: a man can but die upon his death-day” (10, p. 32). Tolkien’s
Smaug is a full character; he is ruthless and devious, intelligent and
beguiling. The use of Smaug in The Hobbit shows what a dragon should be,
and emphasizes the lack of depth in the dragon of Beowulf. “Beowulf’s
dragon, if one wishes really to criticize, is not to be blamed for being
a dragon, but rather for not being dragon enough, plain pure fairy-story
dragon…with bestial life and thought of his own” (10, p. 17).

The dragons in Le Guin’s Earthsea series are similar to those already
seen in shape and ferocity, but in addition to hoarding gold or
treasure, they have knowledge the humans do not. In her world, magic or
the power over an object is based on knowing its true name. The dragons
of Earthsea are very old and have knowledge of the earth and the names
that man has lost. In the first book, Earthsea, the main character Ged
is an apprentice wizard who has inadvertently let loose an evil on the
world. In his chase to track down the evil, he must approach the island
Pendor. Generations earlier, the island was taken over by a very old
dragon. “Unavenged, Pendor had been left to the dragon, with all its
bones, and towers, and jewels stolen from long-dead princes of the
coasts of Paln and Hosk” (11, p. 85). Merlin from the Arthurian legends
was called Pendragon, or head dragon. The name of the island, Pendor is
no coincidence. The name immediately calls to mind the Arthurian legends
and those early dragons, and sets the stage for the battle to follow.

Like Beowulf, Ged has come to meet the dragon on his terms. He calls out
the dragon, “Usurper of Pendor, come defend your hoard!” (11, p. 87).
The dragon’s offspring battle Ged, and when they are dying or dead, the
old dragon agrees to talk. “When he was all afoot his scaled head,
spike-crowned and triple-tongued, rose higher than the broken tower’s
height, and his taloned forefeet rested on the rubble of the town below.
His scales were grey-black, catching the daylight like broken stone.
Lean as a hound he was and huge as a hill” (11, p. 89). The dragons’
descriptions are familiar, the scales and winged body, the serpent
features, and awesome size. In the end, Ged and the dragon reach a
bargain. The dragons are often represented as intelligent, crafty,
cunning, but steadfast in keeping their word, an interesting conflict
between greed and integrity. In this case, the bargain was shared
safety,

“Safety. Your safety. Swear that you will never fly eastward of
Pendor, and I will swear to leave you unharmed.”
A grating sound came from the dragon’s throat like the noise of an
avalanche far off, stones falling among mountains. Fire danced along
his three-forked tongue. He raised himself up higher, looming over
the ruins. “You offer me safety! You threaten me! With what?”
“With your name, Yevaud.” (11, p. 91)

Ged fulfills his obligation, secures assurance from the Dragon of Pendor
that the people of Earthsea will be safe from the dragons, and earns for
himself the name dragonslayer.

In another modern example, the dragons of Pern are reminiscent of the
early Eastern dragons working closely with humans. In McCaffrey’s world,
the dragons and humans are linked together. At birth, the dragons
“impress” on a human, and they share a telepathic bond.

“A feeling of joy suffused Lessa; a feeling of warmth, tenderness,
unalloyed affection, and instant respect and admiration flooded mind
and heart and soul. Never again would Lessa lack an advocate, a
defender, an intimate, aware instantly of the temper of her mind and
heart, of her desires” (McCaffree:1988, p. 83).

Despite the closeness, the dragons of McCaffrey’s world remain
different, or alien. They have different priorities then their human
counterparts. Yet their savagery is limited to feeding and destroying
the “thread” that threatens their planet. There is great passion in
McCaffrey’s dragons. In the Sci-Fi world of Pern, the dragons were breed
and genetically engineered by the early colonists from the planets
native fire-lizards, and the dragons are capable of breathing fire by
ingesting certain rocks. They maintain their elaborate, color based
social structure, and this social structure is reinforced by the
dragonriders. Each weyr, or colony of dragons and dragonriders has a
lead queen dragon, and a lead bronze dragon. The paired riders of these
two dragons hold the human leadership roles as weyrwoman and weyrleader.
However, the choices are based off of the queens mating flights. The
strongest and most agile bronze dragon, and by default, the rider become
the weyrleader after successful mating. Queen’s are the largest dragons
and are gold, then bronze, brown, blue and breen dragons in rank of size
and social status in the group.

Conclusion

Taking a critical look at dragons from early mythology and folklore, to
present day, modern culture is taking the monstrous often animalistic,
fire breathing dragons of the past, and embracing them in fiction.
Dragons in the modern world are used as symbols of strength and wisdom.
The Dragon is the only mythical creature in the Chinese zodiac, and they
are still seen as good luck. They are mascots of sports teams, used in
architecture, games and decorations. They are shown in movies as
misunderstood, or humorous analogs. Today dragons are not believed in,
but are still an important part of society. In early literature, there
were clear heroes and villains; there were clear boundaries between good
and evil, between the white hats and the black hats. The eastern dragons
ruled sky and water, worked with rulers, and consorted with the gods and
goddesses. The dragon of today could be an amalgam of the early dragons.
Today dragons are still portrayed as terrifying and monstrous, but they
possess great intelligence and humor. People today may no longer need
the hero’s of the past and the equally great nemeses; people are perhaps
less afraid of the dark, and less inclined to tilt at windmills. And the
evil monsters of the past, the dragons and Dracula are not as scary or
as real as they once were. Yet despite this, the dragon of 6,000 years
ago, and the dragon today are still recognizable as cousins. The
fire-breathing, mountain hurling Greek dragons, to the intelligent
friends of man from the early Chinese, are still visible in the modern
dragons. While we may not believe they are real today, we still
occasionally need to feel the awe and wonder these creatures inspire, so
the dragons live on in our fiction.

Bibliography

[1] Clair, Colin. Unnatural History. New York: Abelard-Schuman, 1967.

[2] Jones, David E. An Instinct For Dragons. New York: Routledge, 2000.

Packing, boxes, tape, more boxes more tape…. That’s my life for the
next few weeks. I’m getting ready to move. Finally facing reality and
ditching the too-big house and moving into an apartment in the part of
town where stuff actually happens.

And I am going to use this opportunity to shed much of the stuff I’ve
been hauling around for the past thirty years. We’ll see how that goes.

One thing I’m taking time to do is go through old files, scan what I
want to keep and pitch the paper. Tonight I went through the oldest of
my old boxes. It’s an old metal file box that I’ve kept poetry in since
the ’80’s.

It’s fun to read through this old stuff. Most of it is trite,
ego-centric teenage crap…with lots of over-the-top, but heart felt
imagery. Nonsense mostly.

These two jumped out of the pile though. I remember writing each line of
these.

Yellow paint.
Yellow paint flowing and gurgling
Downward to the surface
Water and yellow paint
Becoming one.
Slowly yellow only
With a film of oil spreading
Across the surface.
Strands reaching outward
In all directions searching
Feeling for someone.
Is she there? Was it a voice,
or just a crazed hallucination.
A voice, a shadowy figure,
Sweet perfume.
Sweet perfume flowing and gurgling…
A sound when we touch,
Electric fire like noise
Stronger, an explosion.
Silence, we are love,
Love,
Love flowing and gurgling
Downward to the surface.
Water and yellow paint and sweet perfume
Become love.
Slowly love only
With electric fire spreading
Across the distance.

The next one, “I Don’t Need Anything” has an interesting format. It’s
two sides of a conversation woven through a rather depressing, but again
heart felt message.

I Don't Need Anything"Nothing, I don't need anything"
"Please, just ask."
Worlds, separated by distance, space.
Impenetrable silence.
"I have never been alone."
"I have always been alone."
No answers, no time.
To busy being someone else to listen.
"I have never been alone, but I could handle it."
"How can you say that?"
Don't reach out, don't play games,
And God, don't pity.
"I don't know what you want."
"I don't have words to make you listen."
Its just a lie, push it to the edge.
No consequence, no difference, no reason to be.
"I don't need anything."
"What is commitment?"
Along for the ride, punishment. Don't hang on.
Alone is not happy, or successful.
"Same sense of humor. We like some of the same things."
"I have never hit anyone in anger."
What a waste. Time for apathy, for emotions,
For someone elses problems, for friendship.
"I don't need anything."
"I don't no what to expect."
It ends soon, not together, not wanted.
Maybe next time, maybe never.
"She doesn't know what to think."
"I'd like to know what to do."
Cold, lucid, painful like tears.
Blind, no feelings, no hurt.
"Just write a few letters, read my book."
"We'll talk later, maybe."
Give it a rest, no wants, no needs.
No time, no effort, not likely.
"Funny, it took someone else to show me
The pain of alone."

So many memories. I went through the box and scanned all of the typed
copy, but I’m keeping the original handwritten versions. The handwritten
originals have a nostalgic feel, and they convey the effort and struggle
to get the words on the page in a way that the type written versions do
not.

Reading through these poems gives me a glimpse of the me I was 25 years
ago. So different, and so familiar. So much more energy, and so much
more naive.

Who knows what the next box will hold, probably more old tax records or
utility bills, but it may hold a fun walk down memory lane.

I agree with many of the other reviewers on
Netflix,
that the play is much more intense, and a much better experience.

Burton is amazing. He gives a terrific performance. But like any
adaptation, the original will almost always be better. Peter Firth also
gives a terrific performance.

The controversy around the play is entertaining in that any in-depth
look at personal growth and the juxtaposition to puritan notions of
right and wrong, throws people into a fit. To put the whole issue to
bed, what difference does it make if the theme to you is about x or y?
Like any art, it is meant to reach deep into an individual and tickle
those deep emotional bits we keep hidden.

“any doubt and I’d be next over the stone…the mask slips, they
tear the knife from my hand, and I wake up.”

Evolution has given us a great complexity and variety. Yet when we try
to attach artificial restrictions on ourselves, or nature in general,
we’re often surprised by the outcome.
Take, for example, the Colorado river
diversion
projects. Initially, it seems like a good idea to redirect the flow to
increase agricultural opportunities, but the consequences could be
terrific.
The binding and trapping of the energy creates tension and potential.
The bit in the horses teeth in its own way holds or diverts the
energy, harnessing it. The restrictions we artificially put on
ourselves to be one way or another, are the bit and reins pulling
us.

“They give us all their strength…they live for us…. I bet all
cowboys are orphans.”

Ultimately, we are in better shape when we accept the order of things.
We learn to appreciate the reality of similarities and the reality of
differences. When we don’t try to force our nature down an arbitrary
path… well, I think this is one of the humanistic challenges, that you
either get, or you don’t. And for those who don’t it must be like being
tone deaf and going to the opera.

“Moments snap together like magnets…”

Eileen Atkins is also brilliant as Martin Dysart’s confidant. What a
great supporting character. She provides the foundation for him, the
splash of cold water he often needs to remember that life has a physical
side and isn’t totally intellectual.

“Your power to pull him out of the nightmare he has galloped himself
into…. Do you see?”

I was wandering through Target this morning. Well, wandering isn’t
correct. I had a couple of specific items to pick up. I’m not really
keen on wandering in Target. Back to the point, the notion of
similarities and differences was wandering through my mind, and how much
we in this culture strive to strip away or mask our differences so that
we blend in completely with the crowd. We buy clothes that look like
everyone else’s. We buy lotions and creams and ointments to make us look
and feel and smell just like everyone else.

Deodorant – substances applied to the body to affect the body odor.

We consciously deodorize ourselves. We strip away even our scent so that
we can blend in and disappear in the crowd.

The unexamined life is not worth living for a human being. —
Socrates

Not everyone disappears into the crowd. There are those few chosen
individuals who stand out in the crowd, often not because of their
differences, but because they exemplify the ideal standard the crowd
aspires toward. We’ve all seen them, the high school quarterback, the
prom queen, the movie star, the annoying person at work who is just a
little too perfect; you know the ones, as Olympia Dukakis coined, “cut
from cream cheese”.

I often wonder if they know where they are in the crowd. It doesn’t
matter much given the transient nature of things. An internet guru was
recently commenting on the nature of impermanence. Look at the cup or
glass in front of you. The time in the universe that the glass is whole
and in one piece is so small. Through most of its existence the glass is
broken. We’re the same as the glass. For most of time, we are bits and
pieces performing other functions; star dust if you like the romantic
notion.

In the end,
Equus
shows us the darkness of our passions. Not that our passions are
shameful, but that our passions are kept in the dark. We hide from our
true selves, we cover up and conform, not to be happy, but to fit in and
feel safe.

Lawrence Block is certainly a very successful writer. He currently has
178 books listed on Amazon.com. The introduction starts with Mr. Block
telling us why he wrote this book:

This is a book designed to help you write a novel. It contains the
distillation of my own experience of twenty years as a published
novelist, plus a considerable amount that I’ve learned from other
writers. My goal throughout has been to produce the sort of book I
might have found useful when I set out to write my own first novel.

And he does just that. This is a very entertaining and insightful book.
Mr. Block shares many experiences with us as well as much hard learned
knowledge. The opening paragraphs sum up these thoughts:

If you want to write fiction, the best thing you can do is take two
aspirins, lie down in a dark room, and wait for the feeling to pass.
If it persists, you probably ought to write a novel. Interestingly,
most embryonic fiction writers accept the notion that they ought to
write a novel sooner or later.

The book goes on to tell us why we should write a Novel. The book
frequently gives specific advice regarding technique, but more often
than not, the book reminds us that there is no right or wrong way – an
author must decide what works best for him. In fact, Mr. Block repeats
this two sided answer so often, that by the end of the book it’s almost
annoying. But he gets the point across – what writers do is write.

The list of Chapters shows how the book develops:

Why Write a Novel?

Deciding Which Novel to Write.

Read . . . Study . . . Analyze.

Developing Plot Ideas.

Developing Characters.

Outlining.

Using What You Know . . . and What You Don’t Know.

Getting Started.

Getting It Written.

Snags, Dead Ends and False Trails.

Matters of Style.

Length.

Rewriting.

Getting Published.

Doing It Again.

There is a great deal of information tucked in the 200 pages. There is
also an excellent section at the end of the book listing several pages
worth of More Great Books for Writers.

While this isn’t a technical study on any given topic, would be writers
should consider this a ‘must have’ in their library. The book provides
great objectivity and motivation.